How she held on
by Uncle.Dragon
Summary: It never was a pleasant chapter of her childhood, being rich doesn't mean you're pampered, or more specifically, loved.


Humans have always had a natural affinity to enjoy high places such as the tops of trees and cliffs and occasionally tall buildings. They've all convinced themselves that they would never jump from such high places.

"How strange," people said. "She must have been weak." "The young lady was riddled with problems." "Maybe she was neurotic."

Even so, if those people believed jumping from high places wouldn't have done it.

The nine year old girl stopped caring about such things long ago.

Sitting on the floor of her father's kitchen, the girl leaned on the counter supporting the sink. Her eldest brother stared at her with a look of utter disgust. "Mundane girls like you never amount to anything," he said, "Other than being married off to another noble, you're nothing to this family." Her brother always spoke to her that way. Harsh words were constant from her three older brothers. The girl tuned her brother out and let her mind drift.

Some believed lies; the "baby of the family" wasn't always the spoiled or pampered one. The youngest daughter didn't matter after the three prodigious sons made names for themselves in their respective fields: business, medical, and law. She never stood a chance in this family of dominant males.

The girl clung to pain and loneliness.

Pain. It started off simply. The thrill and control of slicing her wrists was appealing at first. Using the prized knives from her father's kitchen was a secret degradation of the house's pride. She would sit at dinner thinking with a smile, _Ah yes, that one was used just this morning. I'll have a scar from the cut that knife gave me. Ha, now we're using it to cut the roast for dinner!_

The act of it all was quite wonderful to her. The crimson liquid spilling into the sink, temporarily staining the porcelain. However, it soon became quite boring to her.

Her next intrigue came in the form of an accident, a very… fortunate accident. It happened on a day when the stove top had yet to cool completely. The girl's hand grazed the hot surface and thus, a new obsession was born.

Smirking, she thought of her exploits into her father's private study. She would sit in the chair behind the desk mocking the important things her father undoubtedly said. At the end of such tirades, she would open up her father's prized, golden cigar case and pull out one of the expensive imports. After lighting one up, she'd take one or two puffs and pretend she was one of the prodigious brothers her father was proud of. After the delusion quickly passed, she would look at the cigar with contempt and with a fury, stubbed the offending item on her arm. The girl quietly put the cigar back in its place and left the study as she found it.

The naive girl sat on the kitchen floor for a long time. Hours passed before the maids and cook barged in desperately trying to prepare dinner.

"Get out of the way, girl!"

The girl came out of her reverie to look at the agitated cook.

"You heard me. Move!"

She slowly stood and silently headed out of the kitchen. As she passed through the doorway, she heard the maids: "Don't forget we have to clean the tapestries, the clocks…."

The girl grinned to herself; she'd been looking for something new, and she finally had something.

Coughing, the girl made her way through the dusty attic. She never liked it there, but she knew this was worth it. She walked over to the wall facing the extended driveway. The huge window clock was easy enough to open. She smiled as she felt the chilled night air on her face and didn't bother to suppress the maniacal giggle that rose in her throat.

Staring at the dark abyss that she knew to be the pavement below, she lost herself in thought and contemplation.

_It would be too much. The feel, the hardness of the hit. It would be wonderful, fun… Beautiful even. I'd be so alive… What better way to live than to face-_

At that moment, the young girl heard movement at the attic entrance and froze, listening for even a pin to drop.

"Can you believe it? Father's going to leave it all… to SHIZURU?"

"I know, right? She's beautiful, but she is nothing! Just a little _inconsequential_ slut! And for father to leave her everything, including _that place_..."

The young, frightened girl listened until her two brothers could no longer be heard.

He loves me? Father loves me?

The girl turned and looked out at the night sky once more, a hopeful glint in her eye. She reached for the handle to shut it, thinking that maybe, at some other time, this idea could be useful, for now… her hand grasps the handle and closed the window.


End file.
